The perfect Illusionist

Garrick's laughter rang out as the illusion broke like glass around them—castle walls flickering into endless voids, flickers of fire becoming flashes of ocean.

He grinned beneath his tattoos, blood still dripping from his shoulder where Menma had clawed him.

"You're too slow, demon. You'll die in a dream before you know it's not real."

But Menma wasn't listening. His sword—bladed black, humming like a beast—sliced the air. He didn't need to see.

He felt it. Garrick dropped more illusions: burning forests, shrieking mothers, falling stars—but Menma's glowing eye narrowed.

"You're not making masterpieces," he growled. "You're throwing paint at a wall."

The sword shimmered—

Human Teleportation // First Step

—and he was gone.

Behind Garrick.

The slash was clean.

Blood trailed through the air like a red comet. Garrick's head snapped to the side, barely staying attached.

"Your death… was my first human kill! And I don't think I would change it. You came into my home, burned it, grabbed the people I love!"

Menma's eyes grew redder, and dark power surged as he thought about the things Garrick and the others did to his family.

"And got them together and got ready to kill them!!"

"For that reason, I would kill you a thousand times—and I wouldn't care!"

"What about your friends here?" said Garrick.

"Do you think only we 'brothers' managed to build it? No… he helped us…"

—Creak

A creaking sound echoed as a door near Menma and Garrick opened.

Menma looked back to ask Garrick what that was…

But it was too late. Garrick was dead.

So Menma, with a cautious body, walked toward the door…

The air twisted.

And everything Menma thought he knew—collapsed.

His eyes widened, and his hand started trembling.

His sword lowered.

What he saw came straight from a nightmare…

Lunara's corpse lay in the middle of the room. Her arms were reaching toward something. Her face was frozen in pain.

Zayne was nailed to the wall, arrows through his chest. Still twitching.

Annie—her throat was cut. Her body was burning.

The guardians—torn apart. The floor was littered with them. The walls had runes scrawled in blood. Human soldiers stood triumphant, some cheering, others crying with relief.

And Garreck?

He stood over their bodies like a god of war—untouched, unmoved.

"You're the last one left," Garreck said calmly. "You failed them all."

The sound of the flames… the way Lunara's blood trickled… the smell of ash—

Menma dropped his sword.

His hands shook.

Then he screamed.

It wasn't rage—it was something worse. Something deeper..

A broken, feral grief that came from a hole so dark it scraped the soul raw. The scream echoed through the throne room, shaking the broken glass in the windows.

His demon eye burst fully open. The whites of his eyes went red. Veins surged under his skin, glowing faintly.

He picked up his sword—not to fight, but to destroy.

Everything.

His footsteps cracked the marble floor. He lunged at Garreck like a beast with nothing to lose. One slash. Two. Then three—each faster, harder, until it blurred.

The illusions wavered.

And Garreck's body dissolved into crows.

Menma didn't realize that this was an illusion since he had already turned into his berserk form. He still had so much anger that had to be taken out on someone.

So he let out a huge roar—

And disappeared…

While the real Garrick ,came out from his hiding spot and began laughing 

"I've done it!!I tricked him into killing all the others,then I'll trick him again and kill him,im sure i will get that ' uncle' position now" and he started running.

Outside, as the screams echoed through the castle, the Giant rose again. Bones re-knitting. Flesh stretching. Its body was half ash, half rage, howling with mindless fury.

But the old man didn't even blink.

He stepped forward and raised a single finger.

Human Creation // Create

The air behind him twisted like a whirlpool. Threads of raw power danced around his body.

A massive brush appeared in his hands—glowing gold.

He moved it through the air like a painter on a canvas. Every stroke erased part of the Giant. One limb. Another. Then the jaw. Then the spine.

Shhhhk—Splat—CRACK.

The creature exploded into strips of meat and dust. It never screamed. It couldn't.

The battlefield fell quiet.

The old man placed the brush back into his coat.

"Rise from this."

And started walking away.

The people started cheering. After all, he was their king. But Elias wasn't happy. He was confused—how the hell did the dead revive? Then he heard some creepy voices coming from the Giant's body.

"Wow, I can't believe our puppet fell so easily," said one. Its voice sounded like an evil child.

"Yeah, fuck him for destroying our toy. I wish our masterpiece was here… it would destroy their kingdom with one finger."

Elias quickly turned around, but he didn't see anything. The voices continued.

"But it couldn't. You heard it, right? The commander roared earlier. I don't want them fighting against one another!"

Elias was shocked to his core and decided to rest for a minute.

Meanwhile, back at the castle…

Lunara slammed her claws against Kael's chest, panting. He was bruised and bleeding—but not dead. Still standing.

She tried again, but her hands shook.

Kael stared back. Quiet. Breathing hard.

"Kill me," he muttered. "I killed yours."

Annie arrived, calm, slow. She walked up behind Lunara, watching her daughter's hesitation.

"You know why they called us witches, Lunara?"

Lunara looked down.

"Because they feared us?"

Annie shook her head.

"Because they labeled us. Like animals. Like problems. They dragged your grandmother into fire while she begged them for peace."

Lunara's eyes welled up.

"They called our kindness manipulation. Our power? An infection. They hated what they couldn't control."

Kael laughed weakly, coughing blood.

"You think you're the victim?"

Lunara raised her hand—but it trembled too hard.

She dropped it.

"I can't. I… I still see a human, not a monster."

Annie smiled—proud and hollow.

"Then go. You still have a human heart."

Lunara stepped away.

Annie turned to Kael, her expression flat.

"But I don't."

The light blade of Annie slashed once—silently. Kael collapsed, whispering for his father.

But no one answered.

While Lunara walked through the hall, tears running down her face, her breath shaking—

THUD.

Menma dropped down from above, red eyes glowing, face twisted in something unrecognizable. He moved like a blur—no longer human. He roared and leapt for her.

Lunara gasped, frozen.

But—

Zayne appeared in front of her in a red streak. His blade met Menma's claws with a thunderclap.

"Focus, boy."

Menma roared again, trying to tear through him. Zayne skidded back, slashing to keep him away.

"He's not stopping!" Lunara cried.

As soon as she heard the screaming—

Annie landed beside Zayne, cloak billowing. She looked at Menma—how he twitched, how his mouth foamed, how his sword throbbed in his grip.

"He's lost in grief."

Zayne gritted his teeth. "Then pull him out."

They moved together. Annie bound his limbs with golden threads. Zayne parried, redirected.

Each time Menma tried to strike, Annie whispered—memories of Lilith. Of laughter. Of the first time he used teleportation to steal apples from the market.

It slowed him.

Just enough.

"Come back, Menma."

His sword fell.

And for a second… his eyes returned.

But they transformed again…

"Will you help me… Zayne?" said Annie with a low voice.

"Will you help me, to bring my boy back to his senses?"

Zayne smirked and looked her in the eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."

Human Creation // Red Speed

Witch Creation // Light Star

They both readied their Creations against Menma.